


Three Things.

by Thrasirshall



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018), Crash Pad (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types, The Dead Don't Die (2019), The Kitchen (2019)
Genre: Alpha Flip Zimmerman, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Inspired by The Dead Don't Die (2019), M/M, Mpreg, Omega Gabriel O'Malley, Zimmalley, Zombies, a/b/o dynamics from 2nd chapter, also some very dark Irish history, despite that said spoilers are also a bit incorrect, mild spoilers for DDD movie, some religious talk in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19023181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrasirshall/pseuds/Thrasirshall
Summary: Inspired by the FlipGabe chats on Twitter and the lovely art by Jeusus, I present to you a three-parter story about our favourite Kylux Adjacent cop and crook!The first chapter can be read as an entire standalone if the other genres are not your thing.The A/B/O dynamics, zombies and surprise!Stensland happen from chapter two onwards, but admittedly the zombies are merely a deus ex machina for drama.Art is by Jeusus who inspired this whole thing basically!





	1. The Bill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeusus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeusus/gifts).



 

“Gabriel O'Malley, you are now under arrest, you have the right to remain - ”

 There was a grunt from Gabriel, “I remember these being a lot more pleasurable.”

 “ - silent. Please use it.”

Flip’s heart had jolted - and he couldn't tell if it was the fear of recognition, or because merely hours before, that tattooed arse had been bouncing on his cock.   

 He was firm handling Gabriel -

_‘Call me Gabe, a chroí’_

making sure that he kept his head forward, cuffed hands on the top of the car as he frisked him for more weapons.

 The revolver was first, sticking obnoxiously out of Gabe’s back pocket before Flip pat the rest of him down.

Gabe tilted his head back to peer at Flip in the corner of his eye, then smiled wryly.

 

“Knew I recognised those big hands.” he said loudly enough just for Flip’s ears.

 

His response was Flip slamming him against the car.  
Once at the station, a look was shared between the two officers, a table between them and Gabe.

Said table had a revolver on it, along with a boot knife, _another knife,_ chewing gum of questionable taste, another even smaller penknife, a broken watch - also had a little knife in there, and finally, a broken gold chain and cross.

There was silence about the handful of condoms.

 “Gabriel O'Malley,” the officer, a black haired young man called Dopheld, “You've been arrested for illegal possession of a firearm without a permit, and other concealed weaponry.”

 Gabriel looked at him, bored. He was slouched in his seat, legs spread with his cuffed hands resting on his crotch.

He wanted to tease that other cop, the one who'd slammed him against the car. Where was he? They had such _fun_ last night.

“What exactly were you planning with these?” The other officer, Peavey, fixed Gabe with a glare as he leaned over the table with one hand, “Well, _Irish_?”

 Gabriel's slowly growing smile at Peavey was the most unpleasant thing Dopheld had ever seen.

 

Flip hid in his office, feeling like a dog with its tail between its legs. The moment he saw that goddamn tattoo on Gabe - _Gabriel's_ hip, he knew.  
Head in his hands, last night's events began to bounce around in his mind…

 

The music pounded through him, the feeling more unpleasant than the noise assaulting his ears. Honestly, he was never into this shit even when he was a teenager, but his colleagues begged him to at least try it out. He’d been to nightclubs and pubs and the like - but usually because they were after someone. Because of work.  

However, apparently he had to _loosen up_ a little every once in a while. Bullshit, Flip thought, but went anyway. Dopheld meant well.  
Still - it was hard to get out of Cop Mode sometimes. He’d sussed out several people underage drinking already, but was firmly told not to engage unless it was violent. This was meant to be his night off. Pah. Since when was that a thing?

Two beers, pushing away sweaty dancing bodies and a lot of brooding in a corner later, Flip was about ready to go home - he'd 'loosened' up enough. By now, he’d have arrested at least five people.  
Then he glanced across the room, and realised that the same guy from the upper dance floor had been watching him this whole time. Had been since he arrived.

It was hard to tell exactly what this watcher looked like except neon green and red, but he was tall, unshaven -

 Flip's brain, edges barely dulled by alcohol, was already noting his description and possible motives. Looked six foot, mid-twenties, male -

Keeping a steady gaze at the man, Flip made it obvious about knowing he was being watched.

The stranger smiled, before winking, a hip jutting out a little as he leaned on the banister.

It was a careful, very careful game of seeing if interest was there.

Between this stranger and Flip, there was a whole other dancefloor between them. If either misread each other's intentions - there was time to escape.

For the most part - _these days_ , it didn't matter about… questionable liaisons between men, but Flip knew all his life about when he had to hide. To blend in.

But he'd winked, and Flip straightened up a little more, showing interest on his face, beer bottle almost empty.

   
On the other side, Gabriel was leaning on the banister, shirt purposefully open a button more, golden cross hanging carelessly. He’d been watching Flip for the last hour, playing by the rules of secret engagement. America he found seemed to be far more liberal minded, but Gabriel wasn’t a fool to let his guard down.

Flip threw back his drink, not breaking Gabriel's gaze once, and tilted his head in the direction of the bathrooms before he started to walk casually towards them.

Gabriel raised his head in acknowledgement - briefly glancing to his side at a full, strangely quiet table behind him, before straightening up and headed to the same bathroom.

Flip relieved himself first before heading back to the hallway. Drunk patrons meandered in and out for a moment, before he disappeared into a broom closet that was _far_ too easy to break into. The light bulb was bare and a weird dull white, but it did the trick.

Through a crack in the door, Flip watched until his admirer came in, noting the navy shirt with white birds on it.

 He definitely wasn't wearing underwear with those low cut trousers, Flip noted with a raised eyebrow.  

Questionable fashion aside, the stranger nonetheless gave his breath pause.

Certain now he was at least six-one, with long arms and legs and stunning red hair, a burnt colour under the harsh lights.

Gabriel glanced about the hall with sharp green eyes - Flip noting that he was stone cold sober. He hadn’t touched a drink in the hour they’d passed glances, and suspicion **gnawed** at him. Why was this guy so interested since Flip walked in? Why -

Gabriel disappeared into the bathroom, and Flip shut the door for a moment when more people appeared, a hard grip on the door handle.

Through the keyhole Flip watched, until moments later - his ginger haired stranger appeared again.

Two men then waltzed in, and _something_ passed between them, before they went back out to the dance floor. Whatever it was they said, Flip realised it was in another language.

The heavy fire door had the obnoxious volume muted, but it did nothing to cease the loud pounding in Flip's chest as he slowly, very slowly, opened the door again.

Gabriel gave a nasal sigh, digging around in his pockets for a cigarette. He trudged towards the closet to go outside -

Flip grabbed Gabriel by the shirt, needing only one large hand - pulling him inside and slammed him against the wall.

 

"Looking for me?" he whispered harshly, keeping one fisted hand free for punching.

 

 _Lord above_ , he was stunning up close. Unshaven, his hair a more copper shade now that Flip could see it better, and the plushest lips he'd seen in a while.  
Flip's _admirer_ was actually almost the same height, but Flip had more muscle on his side. This didn't seem to bother the stranger one bit.

"I wondered where you'd vanished to," Gabriel's said, and the Irish accent did something to Flip's chest, "Thought I might have been mistaken."

  _You're not alone_ , Flip thought, and briefly cursed Dopheld for insisting he leave his gun at home.

  _Who do you work for?_ He wanted to demand.

Flip didn't even have his badge - a safer thing to do lest someone find out who he was.  
  
This guy had been watching him, and every ounce of Flip had said it was a setup.  
As always though, Gabriel kept his cool.

This Zimmerman guy was a known cop, and apparently one of the best this side of the state.

He was trouble for Gabriel's bosses.

He was God damn _handsome_.

Silence stretched, the muted tempo of the music a continuous gentle pounding between their bodies.

Gabriel smiled and tilted his head, not hiding his admiring gaze.

The red chequered shirt was a bit questionable, but **oh** did Zimmerman make it look so, so good. Gabriel wanted to count those moles on his face, and see if he had any more anywhere else -  
  


" _Ar chaill tú do theanga?_ " He asked sweetly.  
  


Flip narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, Gabriel hesitated.  
He was always a sucker for brown eyes, and Zimmerman's were the richest he'd ever seen. Angry, but so full of emotion. He suddenly really, really didn't want to kill this guy.   
  


"Irish?" Flip finally said.

"Gabriel," Gabriel offered, lifting his hands in surrender, "Call me Gabe, _a stór._ "

 

Flip didn't offer his name, but relaxed his grip on Gabriel’s shirt.

There was a little snap, and Gabriel's eyes rolled down. Something dropped onto the floor between their feet with a metal bounce.

Gabriel looked at Flip curiously, and slowly, their eyes still locked, Flip released his shirt completely.

Gabriel bent, far too smoothly down to his haunches and reached - eyes only glancing down once to find what had fallen.  
His fingertips lifted what Flip realised was the golden cross, the chain having snapped at the crab claw.  
  


Irish. Catholic. Of course. Shit.  
  


"Sorry. I didn't mean to break it." Flip said, hoping he sounded sincere as he felt, hands loosening at his sides.

Gabriel tucked it into his breast pocket, giving a wry smile. Flip inhaled, suddenly tense as Gabriel was crotch height, and the Irishman too was aware of this little fact.  
He leaned back a little, his balance ridiculously perfect, and touched Flip's knees - a wordless suggestion. There was something almost artistic in how the dim lightbulb of the closet hit his sharp face.

Truthfully - Flip hadn't gotten his cock wet in a while, but something, _something_ in him wanted to see that face dotted with freckles just moan out loud.

Flip made a negative noise, and Gabriel slowly stood up, curiosity glinting in his eyes, one shoulder sinking a little. Flip took a step, noting that Gabriel didn't move except to brush fingers over Flip's hips, holding their gaze.

He took another step, and Gabriel parted his legs more, inviting.

Firm hands suddenly gripped Flip’s rear, strong and assured, Gabriel's head tilted back in a sly smile. It lit something up in the man's dark eyes, and with two steps pressed Gabriel into the wall.

 

 _Good_ , Flip thought - he wasn't interested in an awkward fumble with a shy rookie.

Too many times had he been let down by disappointing quickies in bar toilets or alleyways. Most didn't even get him off properly, leaving him hanging to fumble home - angry and embarrassed.

This guy though, this guy _knew_ what he was doing - had done it before, and was confident.  

Setup or not, this _Gabe_ was willing, and the broom closet was out of the way enough for them not to be disturbed.

 

Flip hoped.

 

Gabriel then tried to pull him into a kiss, but Flip didn't do kisses. Instead, he gripped the back of Gabriel's head and bared the redhead’s neck instead to bite and suck. Gabriel got the hint and didn't try again, letting Flip explore his throat and collarbone, all the whole plucking the vest from under Flip's shirt to palm his bare hips. Oh yes, he knew what he was doing.

The goatee tickled his skin, but the sucks and bites were going right to Gabriel's cock, as well as that strong hand on the back of his neck.

For once, Gabriel would've quite happily have gone on his knees, an expectancy of this Zimmerman guy to be nothing but a stick up the arse.

Instead, he was like a man parched and Gabriel the water, almost worshipping any skin he showed. Briefly, Gabriel began to undo the buttons of his shirt before Flip took over, kissing and licking his way down - and Gabriel learned that night he had much more sensitive nipples than he realised.

  
Normally - Flip didn’t spend very long on his…. little encounters, but for once he took his time riling Gabriel up, managing to win little gasps and moans - long nimble fingers brushing his hair back from his face as he kissed and sucked and nibbled at pale freckled skin. Gabriel found himself not even interested in Zimmerman’s wallet - the man’s lips were _that_ distracting. Somehow, _somehow_ the shirt had fallen off his shoulders, vest hutched up to his nipples.  
Between them the music continued to pound both them and the walls, but it also sounded so far away now locked in this ridiculous broom closet.    
  
Eventually, they knew something had to happen - and it was Gabriel that suggested it first when he began to undo Flip’s belt. He may, perhaps, also felt a little bit conscious of the _time…._  
There was a split second of hesitation before Flip stopped him, and the question hung on his lips.  
  
Gabriel knew he was greedy, and frankly - fuck the plan. He wanted this Zimmerman to _ruin_ him.

  
“I have condoms and some lube in my pocket.” he said, and it was all that needed to be said when Flip’s large hands slipped down the back of his opened trousers, gripping his asscheeks appreciatively.  
  
“Shall I - ?” Gabriel offered, moving to turn around - but Flip again stopped him with large hands gripping his upper arms.  
  
For a moment, Gabriel was mildly taken aback - he’d gone dry _once_ , and Jesus Christ, never again. His momentary fear was replaced with mild astonishment when Flip shamelessly then dug into Gabriel’s pockets - _typical damn cop_ \- before finding the lube.    
  
“Spread your legs more,” Flip instructed, “Lean on me.”  
  
Gabriel almost, **almost** blurted out _yes officer_ , riding on that dangerous high of being caught, being found out. Maybe Zimmerman ( _dammit what was his first name?!_ ) already knew, but wanted to have a little fun too.  


From the angle alone, it was easier for Flip to prep Gabriel, sliding a hand under between his legs, beige trousers now pooled between his knees and falling. At this point, Gabriel was almost on top of Flip, on his tiptoes, and arms around his neck.

 

“Aren't you sweet.” Gabriel cooed, nosing brushing Flip's cheek, “Most don't bother.”

 

Something about that made Flip twinge uncomfortably - his fucks were quick, yes, but he wasn't inconsiderate of his partners.

 

When a second finger slowly slipped in - the colour that rose up Gabriel’s freckled chest and neck was like watching a sunrise, and Flip was briefly enamoured with it, his other hand sliding over Gabriel’s bare throat as he felt fingers dig into his shoulders.

 

"... Sorry again about the cross." Flip mumbled.

 

"It's fixable." Gabriel replied -  only to grin wickedly, "Can't say the same about myself."

 

Flip smiled despite himself, yet somehow he actually began to laugh. It was the sweetest thing Gabriel had ever seen.  
  
It wasn’t long then when Gabriel had his bare legs wrapped around Flip, back pressed to the wall and moaning into his ear as Flip thrusted - but his eyes were now also fixated on the door, lit up with worry.  
  
Shadows of footsteps under the door had appeared - hovering, sometimes vanishing before reappearing again. Gabriel, biting his moans into Flip’s broad shoulder to muffle them, hoped it was just people passing by. Hoped it wasn’t…  
Suddenly, Flip was pounding into him, panting loudly, getting close, and Gabriel wanted nothing more than to be lost in this mountain of a man’s strength, the tightest fist pumping his cock -    
  
But the shadows drew nearer, and Gabriel suddenly put a hand over Flip’s mouth as he came with a stutter of his hips, muffling his moan. His own climax, milliseconds later, had Gabriel biting into his fist with a whimper.  
He stared at the door. Nothing. No one.      
   
It didn’t take Flip long to notice Gabriel had a nervous glint in his eyes as he lowered him slowly back onto his feet, or how he kept looking over his shoulder after they quickly dressed and vacated the now rather stuffy closet.  
  
Instead of going back out to the dancefloor, Gabriel took Flip by the hand and brought him out to the gardens.  
  
“There’s a staff exit down by the end of the garden, the lock is broken.” Gabriel said into his ear, breathless, “Go. Please. I’ll distract them.”  
  
Flip’s sudden grip on his arms was decidedly less gentle than before, eyes lit up with sudden betrayal - dammit he was _right_ \- !  
  
Until Gabriel kissed him.    
  
Then, Gabriel was gone.     
  
_Until this morning, of course_ , Flip groaned, and everyone was wise enough to leave him alone in his office. He expected some sort of trouble at the nightclub after realising he was a target and Gabriel had helped him escape, but instead found the lanky ginger wandering around with a damn gun without a permit.  
He didn’t want to know if it had been used.  
  
“Gabriel O’Malley?” Peavey called out, somehow making the man’s name sound like an insult.  
  
Gabriel, stretched out, and maybe a little over on the bench, gave the weasley little man a look of contempt.  
  
Peavey gave a huff, rattling the keys in his hands, “You’re... _free_ to go. Bail’s been paid.”  
  
**That** got Gabriel to his feet and towards the now open cell door, utterly confused, “By who?”  
  
He was, after all, nothing more than a useful grunt to whore out for distractions when need be - why would his bosses even bother paying his bail?  
  
Peavey smacked a letter into Gabriel’s chest, lips curled in disgust, “You know where the door is, **Mister** O’Malley.”  
  
After being _promptly_ ushered outside, Gabriel opened the letter. It seemed to be nothing more than a receipt for the bail’s payment, until he spotted something written at the bottom of the page.  
  
_‘Now we’re even - Z’_

  
Then Gabriel shook out the broken chain and cross into his palm, and started to laugh.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> _"Ar chaill tú do theanga?"_  
>  Did you lose your tongue/language?  
> 'Teanga' translates to both tongue or language. 
> 
> _Stór_ can mean darling, dear, or love. 
> 
> Lastly, I know the fanart had meant Gabriel referencing the cuffs being pleasurable, but - I actually had no idea where Flip was going to cuff him during their first meeting as Flip had nothing on him. 
> 
> Sssso, Gabriel is referencing Flip's hands, rather than the cuffs. Bit of a cop out (ha), but... yeah. Apologies for that.


	2. The Call.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel runs away - from Flip, zombies and an unexpected realisation on the way.

 

Flip should’ve known better, really.

His late mother had always warned him of what she referred to as _stray omegas_ …

He also never exactly listened to what his mother told him either.  
  
Somehow on a routine patrol, he’d met up with Gabriel (‘Just Gabe, a stór’) O’Malley again, with his long arms and long legs and unshaven face that peered at him through the car window. The repaired gold cross swung back and forth like a cat’s tail when he leaned forward, a hand on the car door.  
  
“I wanted to thank you,” those long arms were around Flip’s neck very quickly, “ _Personally_ , for paying my bail…”  
  
It was certainly a better _thank you_ Flip had had in a very long time, but he was under no pretenses - they wouldn’t see each other again after that night at the club, or so he thought at least. 

  
Gabriel was clearly involved with someone, or some people of questionable moralities - but no evidence meant no charges, and Flip... didn’t want to know. It was easier that way.  
  
But they did see each other again - more than Flip was willing to admit, and even less by _accident._

 

He didn't miss Gabriel's cheeky gaze laced with worry when he thought Flip wasn’t looking, glancing at something Flip couldn’t see when they occasionally ventured into the public eye. Dinner a few times, even the pictures.  
  
It happened enough one evening for Flip to suggest his place, and Gabriel’s surprise surprised _him._  
  
From there it became a rather haphazard routine and Gabriel appeared like the wind, disappearing just as fast. Flip didn’t mind so much - his job was just as unpredictable, and Gabriel was only demanding of his stamina, his bed, and sometimes his beer.  
  
Breakfast on occasion.  
  
Nothing was said when a second toothbrush appeared.  
  
Then one morning, Flip awoke to his wallet and car keys missing. Anger (mostly at himself - why, _why_ did he trust such a **stray** \- ! _but that was everyone else talking…._ ) then confusion as a note was left on Gabe’s pillow:  
  
_‘I’m sorry a stór, I can't stay - G.’_

Wallets and car keys were replaceable, but Flip pointedly ignored the seeping emptiness in his bones (and bed) as weeks then passed by. He left the second toothbrush even when it started to curl and gather dust.  
He ignored the glances and glared at anyone who asked questions.  
  
Then, when he felt life was somewhat going back to normal, Flip trundled into work one morning - and everything changed.  
  
Peavey, Dopheld and pretty much the entire precinct were gathered in front of the television in the break room. Even one of the cuffed prisoners stood there, mouth agape like the rest of them. 

 

No one took notice of Flip’s arrival as he approached, his weary expression slowly frowning into concern at the news broadcast, a helicopter camera panning above what looked like a mob…

_‘The most recent outbreak of the virus has reached smaller towns, making it much more difficult for authorities to contain the spread. We urge everyone to remain indoors, and to not engage the inflicted - ’_

 

No one also took notice when Flip dropped his coffee.

In a weirdly abandoned mall car park three hundred miles away, Gabriel swiped a hand over his stomach before quickly tucking his clothes in and straightening up.     
He wasn’t showing much, but it wouldn’t be long when his vests weren’t loose enough anymore, and it would get harder to hide. Harder to do his job.

At first, Gabriel feared what his fellow gang members would say - or even do. They had begun to notice his hesitation, and he could only refuse alcohol for so long…  
It was difficult enough to maintain the persona of an alpha, even if some of the members were also omegas, but they’d all sworn to not get knocked up. He knew one had gotten a termination, but even just the thought of it…  
  
Regardless, Gabriel knew his ‘business’ with Flip was over, having distracted the (handsome, strong, _dammit -_ ) cop long enough for them to slip through the last town mostly undetected - 

But every payphone he crossed, the redhead would thumb the worn card in his pocket with Flip’s direct number. It would mean the call could be traced, but…

 

 

 

  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gabriel waited impatiently for his group to come back from ransacking the mall, not believing their luck with how empty the whole place was. He had to think of something soon, and _fast -_  
  
“Gabriel!”  
 

Gabriel’s head snapped up at his name being _cried out,_ and out came the gun from his back pocket - only to gape at the horror before him. 

 

His fellow omega cried out Gabriel’s name again as he ran towards him, cut and bloodied - before ending in a sickening scream between squelching crunches of the teeth suddenly on their throat. 

 

Some manner of humanlike creature tore into him, and in the split second that Gabriel knew his colleague was as good as dead, he fired at it. 

 

Gabriel had killed before. Knew points in the body that killed a person quickly and instantly, how bullets were _supposed_ to react when hitting their intended target. The creature barely flinched, still chewing through the throat and collarbone of Gabriel’s now very dead colleague and holding them like they were in a macabre waltz. 

 

Who - _what_ ever he had shot, the sludge that oozed out from the holes in the creature was like tar, and said creature did not appreciate it when its head rose to look at him. 

 

It was in that moment Gabriel chose to run. 

 

He’d been running ever since. 

 

Despite the slowness of the creatures - _zombies_ apparently, they had caused enough widespread panic and damage to have phonelines cut out, and power to fail in several places. 

 

Every payphone Gabriel tried was either dead, or it would ring out, thumbing Flip’s number to the point where he'd rubbed some of the text off of the card. 

It didn't matter though, he'd dialled that number so many times he'd learned it by heart. 

 

What did matter was that Gabriel had to abandon the car a week ago when he couldn’t get gas without risking being attacked, the creatures working day and night in droves now.  
He was running out of bullets and coins and places to rob.  
  
He was also getting bigger, and _slower_.  
  
Locked up in a tiny, windowless bathroom of a Blockbuster store, Gabriel held a hand to his mouth and willed his heart to stop beating furiously as he heard _them_ shuffling outside, Flip’s card and his golden cross gripped tightly in the other. 

 

**

  
How Grandpappy Peterson dealt with this, Flip had no idea.  
  
Weeks had passed, and the threat of the zombies would get worse before they got better, and it would be slow, tedious work. They got through it before thirty years ago, they'd get through it again. 

 

The difference now was that they were a lot more prepared, and far more lives saved than before.  
Flip remembered his grandfather talk about it the very odd time when he visited the home. How he’d been the only survivor alongside a bunch of kids that had escaped juvie.  
His whole town had been, in Peterson’s words, eaten alive. Lost his partners, his neighbours -     
After that, Peterson never stopped carrying a machete in the patrol car after that, and it now resided in Flip's own police car like an heirloom.

Flip always hoped he wouldn't have to use it himself. 

 

Steadfastly trying to ignore a now Gabe… riel-less existence, Flip had thrown himself into work dealing with the outbreak, grandpappy’s machete now attached to his hip despite it not being regulation.    
It was also _only business_ putting out a missing person's search, like countless many, for the wayward Irishman too. Census purposes… death toll, all that sort of stuff.  
At least, the officers in Flip’s precinct were wise enough to treat it as such after all their damn gossip the past few months.

On what was his fourth coffee in twelve hours, Dopheld came jogging towards Flip, a stack of papers in hand. 

“Sir, someone's been ringing your private line for the past several weeks,” he gasped out, just as worn out and unshowered as more than half the station was, “Town three hundred miles from here - ”

 

Flip stopped dead where he stood. His personal number was known to very few - not even enough to count on one hand, and they were dead.  
  
Which meant… 

  
Flip took the offered report from Dopheld, who was wise to remain silent as his superior scrutinised the list. 

 

**

 

He wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, but Gabriel had gotten utterly sick of stale sandwiches at this point, and there was little else he could steal that didn’t need to be cooked, or wasn’t out of date. He had to be fast and quiet, and anyone left alive didn’t live for very long - people panicked too much and were overwhelmed.  
Safety in numbers his _arse_.  
  
It didn’t help either that now, most mornings he began to feel unwell - and it was an unholy nightmare to keep his retching quiet. Windowless bathrooms or closets were the only safe places he could find.  
Then one evening after failing to grab food from another store, Gabriel ducked into a closet to escape another rambling group of creatures, and the irony hit him hard. The blaring music and Flip’s panting in his ears and big strong hands squeezing his skin was like a faint memory now.  
  
But, reality was he would either starve, eventually freeze, or be discovered and eaten.  
There was nowhere to run without a car, he had no gun or knife to fight, or _anything_ now with… the way he was, terrified of something happening.  
  
It had been a long, long time since Gabriel felt such hopelessness and isolation - not since the convent as a child.   
  
Curling up tightly and hugging himself, Gabriel had worn the card into two pieces now, but still held them in his fist. Despite the broken face of his watch, it still ticked - and he had a half hour left before night would fall.  
  
Hearing moaning and rambling voices outside, Gabriel shivered and held his small swollen belly. He was so cold and so hungry…      
  
_I’m sorry little guy… you don’t deserve to suffer my sins._  
  
He wasn’t sure why he thought it would be a boy, Gabriel wondering if the occasional dreams he had were mere projections.  
Flip was often in said dreams, carrying a red haired little boy - but walking away, always walking away… 

  
Gabriel didn’t know when he fell asleep in a heap on the floor, finally succumbing to sheer exhaustion.

He dreamt again, Flip once more being there - but there was sunlight pooling on their bare legs in Flip’s bed, in Flip’s apartment…  
  
Gabriel realised he was naked, like Flip, but his belly had swelled even more and Flip’s hands were just big enough to cover it, looking at it curiously.   
  
_“He’s yours.”_ Gabriel heard himself say, _“I just wish we could’ve seen him.”_

  
_“You’re still alive.”_ Flip said, brushing red hair away from Gabriel’s face.  
  
Gabriel only smiled wryly, _“Not for long.”_

  
_“No, you’re still alive,”_ Flip insisted, now leaning over Gabriel, and the sunlight had gone.  
  
Gabriel’s smile faltered, blinking up at Flip now shrouded in darkness.  
  
_“He’s alive._ ” Flip said, as gunshots exploded in the distance.   
  
Gabriel gasped awake, and saw nothing but lights and boots thundering in his ears, and all he could think to do was hold his stomach tightly.

_“He's alive! Omega!”_

_  
_ He was pulled to his feet, a little less harshly for when someone barked that he was pregnant - 

 

 _“We're here to evacuate the town - !”_ was said to him in a hurried fashion, but really - Gabriel wondered if he was still dreaming. 

 

It’d been far too long since he’d slept in a comfortable bed, unable to help but curl into a ball and nest in the extra blankets and pillows provided for his plus one.  
Who had rescued him or even where he was didn’t matter.  
Somehow, he was still alive.  
_They_ were still alive.

Showing enough now for his hand to curl around it, in Gabriel’s weaker moments, he’d lay both hands atop each other, pretending it was a hand much bigger than his own. 

Thankfully, everyone was too busy to notice him pull the sheet over his face at one stage - easily mistaking it for him trying to block out the noise of the bright lights and overcrowded hospital. 

 

He was too weak and tired and just so thankful to be finally somewhere safe that he forgot to give a false name to a doctor that appeared by his bedside.  
He’d eat, rest enough, and then vanish like he always did, because a mini apocalypse didn’t exactly absolve you of your crimes. 

Gabriel was sure the doctor - a strong and tall female alpha had other questions, but her scent lulled him into a strange security he hadn't felt in a very long time. If anything, she was insistent in keeping him feeling safe in his temporary nest.

Gabriel passed out for the umpteenth time before he could realise his mistake. 

 

**

 

Tired green eyes blinked, and peered over the edge of his blanket at someone sitting by his bedside, thinking it was that alpha doctor again - 

 

Then he quickly pulled it over his face, suddenly realising who it _actually_ was, before Flip reached over and firmly pulled it back, even as Gabriel tugged. 

Flip looked haggard, exhaustion in his eyes, and possibly hadn't showered in a few days. 

Gabriel glared, but it lacked the sharpness Flip knew. Flip’s own intense stare made Gabriel look away after a moment. 

 

_“Well?”_

 

Gabriel looked up at Flip, and it was as if nothing had changed,  “Well _what?”_

 

Flip grunted, leaning close, “How far are you?”

 

Gabriel began to sit up, unsure exactly where he wanted to go, what to do - 

 

“Why would you care, it's not even yo - ” he started, immediately defensive. 

  
Because really, why would Flip, an _upstanding officer_ of the police go for a little Irish omegan whore who ironically wore a Catholic cross and - 

 

Said officer suddenly pinned Gabriel, hands flanking his middle and leaning over with tired anger, and… Relief. 

 

“I **know** it's mine.” he whispered harshly, almost nose to nose and making Gabriel stop breathing, “ _I can smell it._ ” 

 

A split second glance had Gabriel realise his bed had been partitioned off with some privacy curtains, no one noticing their tense altercation. 

   
Gabriel, frozen, could only stare up at Flip, who seemed to just suddenly… deflate, head drooping onto the omegas shoulder, before his shoulders, and the rest of his body followed, weighing Gabriel down with his arm. 

Despite himself, Gabriel’s hands slid up to touch Flip, cheek against his shoulder - and there was a momentary pause of relief of familiarity, _comfort_. 

 

They didn’t dare speak.  


Flip laid by Gabriel’s side for a long while, an arm over his hips to somewhat keep him there, 

neither of them saying anything. 

 “I don't know.” Gabriel finally said, and Flip, almost dozing off ( _idiot, you already trust him again don't you_ -) had to think for a moment what the man meant. 

Gabriel admittedly had lost track of time simply trying to stay alive. Both for himself and the little one.

 

“We can ask for a full checkup when things have died down,” Flip said, inwardly wincing at his poor choice of words, “But Phasma has told me the worst is just exhaustion and dehydration.”

Gabriel, suddenly formal, sat up a little to look at Flip, shifting the man off him slightly, “Of course.”

Flip _looked_ at him for a long moment, before also sitting up - and there was an audible click. 

 

Gabriel gingerly tugged at the handcuff, lip curling into a pout, “Is this really necess - ” 

Lips crushing against his interrupted Gabriel, and he hated how so very badly he'd missed Flip when his free hand whipped up to grip the man’s greasy dark hair eagerly, one long leg pressing into his side.  
The kiss was hot and short, before Flip pulled away and gripped Gabriel’s face in a way he never had before, fingers digging firmly into his skin. 

   
“You **_stay_ ** here, you hear me?” Flip demanded, and hoped he would never have to ever again. 

  
Gabriel hadn't it in him to argue, slowly sitting back into the bed obediently as Flip straightened up, fixing his holster and patting everything down with a fixed look at the omega.  
  
Then he paused, and with a glare that could melt ice, Flip extended his hand.

Gabriel wiggled his hips a little, grinning, “Not going to try n’ find it?” 

Flip’s eyes narrowed. 

 

Gabriel sighed, pulled the keys out from his boxers and dropped them into Flip’s hand, “Spoilsport.”

 


	3. The End.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! 
> 
> Despite my best efforts to make this amusing, it ended up still being kind of dark - but baby Stensland arrives healthy and happy with two slightly unhinged parents!

Flip knew one thing was certain - Gabriel was a man with nothing to lose. Like him.  
  
Perhaps, and of this Flip was _very_ certain of, was why they were drawn together, like some sort of ironic joke.  
  
Neither had dared to call it love. 

 

Then… a lot happened.  
  
Then they had _everything_ to lose.  
  
Gabriel had once been the type to throw himself into any potential danger, carefree of the consequences, garnering a thrill from walking the line. From betraying his bosses (of whoever was left alive now) to waltzing into the precinct more than once to 'talk' to Flip like he owned the place -

Despite the realisation that Gabriel was expecting, it didn't stop the wayward omega from disappearing for hours at a time sometimes during the day. Thankfully he was... _home_ almost always at night. Almost. 

 It had gotten to a point where Flip would purposefully take the patrol routes just to watch out for any signs of Gabriel, even despite the insistence that he hadn't fallen back into his old habits. That his life of crime was over. 

 Flip wanted to trust him, he really did, but Gabriel’s persistent dodging of questions and giving wry smiles instead of answers made that…. A trifle more difficult for the officer. 

The weeks ticked by, the zombie outbreak had been contained, and society went reasonably back to normal and as Gabriel’s belly swelled - he vanished even more when the curfews had been lifted. The times when Flip did manage to wrangle his way out of the office and get home some evenings, Gabriel barely looked or spoke to him.  
It was bizarre, especially when a meal and all had been made for Flip to warm up, yet he mostly ate alone. 

Then alarm bells really started to go off when Gabriel was _actually doing_ what was asked of him: attending the doctor’s appointments like he was supposed to, even letting Flip drive him there. 

He could smell the underlying distress from the omega like a toxin in the air - but Gabriel simply wouldn't let him come near -  not even in bed. 

Despite this, Gabriel would (permanently) borrow Flip’s clothing, practically wrapping himself up in his shirts and jumpers - like he wanted to hide his belly from the world. He hadn't even begun properly nesting.  
  
Hell, they hadn’t even discussed names, or… discussed… _anything_ since the hospital. 

 Yet, as Flip found out one night - Gabriel wasn't angry with him, at _all_ , when he just asked over reheated stew and potatoes.   
Before he could query further, Gabriel retreated. 

 Flip was confused to say the very least. Was it a cultural thing for the Irish to withdraw from society while pregnant? Was Gabriel **that** worried about the pregnancy? Or… 

 

 _… did Flip really think this bizarre relationship of theirs would really work out between them? Was Gabriel only humouring him? Feeling sorry for him?_ _  
_ _Poor lonely Officer Flip falling for a stray he knocked up._

_He was a cop, Gabriel was a crook._

_He would_ **_always_ ** _be a crook._

  
Such gossip, reginited at work upon Gabriel’s imminent rescue, soon became louder in Flip’s mind than usual, and the _practical_ side of him began to prepare for single parenthood.

The other side… still held out hope. 

 Then one damp afternoon, Flip passed a large cathedral on his usual patrol, not really taking any notice, glancing at the large stone cross outside - until something just… _clicked_. 

 

He swerved the car around to go back, parked outside the gate and went inside. 

 

Like all places of worship - there was a still, almost stifling calm silence inside of the building. A handful of people were kneeling at the pews praying silently and not taking any notice of Flip slowly walking by the wall, observing them all. 

 

His cop instinct proved him right once more after spotting a familiar redhead sitting near the middle of the pews, alone. 

Again he could detect distress from Gabriel, so lost in his own world that he didn't notice Flip slipping into the pew until his noticeable weight on the bench made him look up sharply. 

 

Wearing a large grey jumper over the bump still didn't quite hide it, and Gabriel had one hand on it, the other a loose fist on his lap. 

In said fist was his cross.  
  
Flip’s card had long since disintegrated. 

 

Both of them looked at each other, not daring to shatter the silence inside the church. That and they weren't exactly keen on invoking the wrath of any elderly crossly shushing them.

 

Neither of them were particularly religious people, of that, Flip knew. He also knew even less about Christianity than he did Judaism, but reckoned Gabriel wasn't kneeling for practical reasons. 

Unsure, and perhaps simply not caring if it was allowed or not - Flip slid an arm over Gabriel’s shoulders, thighs touching. 

Gabriel stiffened a little, fist clenching. The gold chain dangled under his fingers. 

 

Finally, he relented after a long moment and rested his head against Flip’s shoulder. He looked and felt exhausted. Flip in turn laid his head against Gabriel’s, and would've happily slept there. 

 

Questions would come later, Flip decided. His fingers ran along Gabriel’s arm gently, realising this was as close as they'd become the last few months.

The change had come almost overnight.  
Merely days had passed since he’d left the military hospital Gabriel was his usual self - if a little bit more careful, but couldn't keep his hands off Flip anymore than he could stay out of trouble. 

He was at this point living with Flip, all but officially. 

 

Then they had their first meeting with a doctor after Flip threatened to drag him into one, and something in Gabriel just... switched. 

 

It felt like that night, feeling like a lifetime ago, when Gabriel had appeared like a redheaded spirit to Flip’s apartment, sitting in the corner in the dark. 

Flip had almost shot him before he saw the cross glinting in the moonlight. 

Gabriel acted then like he was now - silent, almost morose, like a man waiting for his execution. 

All Flip could do was hold him in bed, even if Gabriel made it seem like he didn't want to be.  
  
Then he was gone, along with Flip’s car and wallet the next morning. 

 

Flip thought back on all this as they sat together, and felt weirdly fine with it all. 

 

They weren't long leaving the church as pew benches weren't the most comfortable for a nearly nine month along pregnant omega, Gabriel slipping his hand into Flip’s as they walked out. 

 

“Want a lift home?” Flip asked, guiding then to the car, and Gabriel stilled. 

 

Flip gave him a half smile, hoping this momentary open door wouldn't suddenly slam shut. 

Instead, staring past Flip, Gabriel suddenly touched his stomach and all the colour drained from his face. 

 

Without thinking, Flip laid a hand on Gabriel’s, silent - 

 

Then Gabriel exhaled, and gave Flip an apologetic look. 

 

“Kicked. Sor- _ow!”_  

 

Flip’s heart jumped, kicking him back to the reality that this was a real thing that was happening, that this little thing moving under his palm was... _theirs._

 

 _“Jesus Christ can you not break my ribs,”_ Gabriel grunted painfully at his belly, hand holding his chest. 

 

“S’not his fault,” Flip tilted his head towards the cross above them, unable to help but smile. 

 

Gabriel gave him the most withering stare, but a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. 

By now, Flip was all but holding Gabriel, and let him do so right up to the car. 

 

That evening, Flip had begun to hope that some kind of normalcy had settled between them, even if Gabriel was still infuriatingly silent as night fell.  
They hadn’t exactly kept secrets from each other (criminal undertakings notwithstanding), but neither did either of them delve into each other’s pasts either. It was an odd, silent agreement between the two that knowing each other’s scars wasn’t detrimental.  
That night for the first time in the month since the doctor’s visit, Gabriel crawled into Flip’s bed, having made something of his own space in the spare bedroom. It was now a nursery, or the beginnings of one anyway when Flip brought home a crib. Gabriel had found himself unable to resist adding to it the closer he was due, despite how much he'd always resisted his omegan roots.  
It was a tense few moments of them being back to back in bed, Flip watching the odd passing car light outside lighting up thei - the room, and Gabriel holding his stomach, eyes closed.  
  
Then Flip just grunted in annoyance and rolled over to firmly pull Gabriel to him, cursing under his breath.  
Gabriel let a surprised noise, but didn’t resist. Warmth blossomed all down his back and legs, making his everything curl in delight. A full minute had Gabriel thinking about _one last time_ before… until he promptly fell asleep, nestled against Flip.  
  
Their peaceful sleep wasn’t to last a full night when Gabriel abruptly awoke to continuous pain,  and Flip was certain he broke several laws by speeding to the hospital in the blaring patrol car.  
  
Flip had always been the calm one, occasionally flippant - hence the nickname, but it served him well in his first few years in the force. 

 

This was one of those instances where he needed every ounce of calm he could muster as Gabriel had unexpectedly begin to panic the moment he was in the hospital. 

Hooked up and in a private room, this sudden fretting was decidedly very _un_ -Gabriel like as Flip darted between him and the hospital staff, surprised even at himself for his calm. 

 

Then at one point Gabriel had grabbed him. 

 

“Flip - Flip please,” Gabriel gripped his arm hard, “ _Philip_ listen to me please -!” 

 

Instead of anger upon hearing his real name, Flip didn't expect the sudden fear that washed over him, going still. 

 

_Gabriel had stolen his badge one night, tracing the shape, and Flip knew it had been too late to stop the expected question:_

 

_“Anyone call you that?” Gabriel had asked instead, thumbnail on his real name. His moments of thoughtfulness surprised Flip every time._

 

_Then it was gently pried from Gabriel’s hands._

 

_“No. Don't call me it,” Flip said lowly, closing the wallet, “Please.”_

 

_The last person who had after all was now six feet under, and on anyone else's lips, it had sounded… Wrong._

 

Now, from Gabriel, it sounded right. 

 

“Me mother died having me,” Gabriel gasped out, pulling Flip down more, “Th… the nuns told me it was her fault - told me she was a sinner, _that I_ was a sinner…”

 

“Gabe,” Flip inhaled, and **everything** dawned on him in that very moment, “They'll take good care of you, they monitor everything.”  
  
Flip had lived in months of believing that Gabriel was going to leave him, to fears of Gabriel _taking_ their child, until it all boiled down to the sad, terrible fact that Gabriel thought he was going to actually die once their child was born.  
  
The distance, the silence - it all made sense now. 

 

“S-she had me in the convent - I,” Gabriel let a moan of pain, his words stuttering, “I, - ”

 

“Gabe, I promise you,” Flip put on his best calm Cop voice, stroking back hair from Gabriel's sweaty face, “Everything will be fine.” 

 

Gabriel only shook his head, “No, no, listen, I got… the past few weeks I got a list made up of… of people who owe me - they'll give you everything for the boy. S’under the crib, in an envelope, and, and money - ” 

   
Flip inhaled, and he didn’t know what to ask first, “How’d you k- who, _what list?!_ ”

 

“Wait!” Gabriel shot up in a sudden flair of panic, “We need to get married! I need a priest,” 

His fist gripped Flip’s shirt, “- oh God wait I forgot, a Rabbi - both! Flip get both!!”

 

Flip opened and closed his mouth, Gabriel’s panic rising again in his eyes, before he took the Irishman’s hand. 

 

“Gabe - ” he started, but was interrupted. 

 

 _“They’ll take him if we're not married!”_ Gabriel almost cried out, gripping his shirt pleadingly. 

 

The terror in his eyes broke Flip’s heart. 

 

He inhaled slowly, deciding he needed to be calm for both of them. Plus telling a (maybe reformed…?) criminal that that sort of thing being illegal was a _bit_ ironic. 

 

“Let me go first, okay?” Flip reasoned gently, deciding that he needed a nurse, “I won't go far.” 

 

Gabriel’s fingers slowly uncurled from Flip’s shirt before he smoothed it out apologetically.  The kiss to Gabriel’s forehead was lightning quick, before Flip disappeared out to the hallways. 

A nurse, thankfully one that seemed to grasp their situation earlier, was already outside. 

 

“Uh. He requested a priest.” Flip scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “And a Rabbi.”

 

He swore the nurse was laughing at him with her eyes, but left to do as asked. 

Back at Gabriel’s side, the redhead had gone quiet, a quiet that worried Flip. At least when Gabriel talked, Flip knew things weren't as bad. He knew what was on the man’s mind. Sort of.

It didn't take long for the requested clergymen to arrive after being apprised of the situation. 

Not a word passed until the priest and Rabbi glanced at each other, then at the two. Flip held Gabriel’s hand with both of his, who was noticeably calmer, and both of them still in their sleepwear.  

 

"You both say yes?" the priest asked, then the Rabbi repeated the same thing as the two nodded. 

 

“You're married now.” they said in unison. 

 

Gabriel wasn’t sure whether to laugh or curse, and Flip briefly thanked _whatever_ was up there for sending messengers that _got it_.  
  
No sooner did Gabriel and Flip sign the paperwork - did Gabriel let a sudden scream of pain, gripping his belly.  
  
  
In less than four hours, Flip had gotten married and become a father, and he hadn’t even time to think about how quickly his life had turned upside down.  
  
_Precipitous labor,_ they called it - a rare occurrence in the medical world when a labour only lasts three hours. Flip was pretty sure Gabriel had stressed himself out enough that their son had just shot out like a bullet - but…  
With marriage papers stuffed into the back pocket of his hastily thrown on jeans, there Stensland was sleeping in Flip’s arms, a bundled up pink walnut with red strands. He was perfectly healthy, and for the first hour - plenty loud.  
  
“He looks like you,” Flip said softly, unsure if this glow he felt was exhilaration, or lightheadedness from no sleep, glad to be sitting on Gabriel’s bed.  
  
“....God help him,” Gabriel whispered, leaning against Flip, “N’he has _us_ for parents.”  
  
Flip blurted out a laugh, quickly quelling it as Stensland shifted in his grip. Gabriel leaned his head on Flip’s shoulder, like the crisis of whether he’d be alive in mere hours had never even occurred. Instead, he was now struggling to stay awake, marvelling that Stensland was here, was… _theirs_. 

 

“Gabe,” Flip said after a few minutes of silence, voice deceptively soft, “What's on that list?” 

 

He glanced down at the redhead, only to sigh as Gabriel had, for once, legitimately fallen asleep. 

 

**Epilogue:**

He'd looked over every inch of the crib, under, over, even took one leg off with difficulty to see if _something_ was amiss, and Flip found no envelope. 

 

They had been home two days, and Gabriel was sore, tired, and hadn't let Stensland out of his sight once. Flip couldn't complain - if Stensland wasn't in Gabriel’s arms, he was in Flip’s. 

 

This time he was with Gabriel, wriggling a little as he was being changed. Flip watched, leaning tiredly on the doorframe. Gabriel was more than capable of changing a baby - another skill Flip could only assume he got from the convent, another little piece to the puzzle, another question he wanted to ask but probably never would, so instead he just… liked to watch. 

 

"Throw on the kettle there for his bottle,” Gabriel requested, “Though wait ‘til it’s only warm.”

“Sure,” Flip nodded, sliding off the doorframe.

Gabriel watched him leave, before leaning down to put a finger to his lips, slipping a folded piece of paper in the little chest pocket of Stensland's clothes.  
  
“ _Ciúnas, a stór._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Ciúnas, a stór."_ \- "Quiet, love." 
> 
> I could've added so, so much to this chapter from so many amazing twitter threads I've read and SO many headcanons for the Zimmalley ship - but this, along with other works, were waiting far too long to be updated!
> 
> Jeusus also made a beautiful picture of Gabriel and Stensland for me, but while I wanted to put it at the end of the story - it kind of looked like Gabriel shot Flip, which wasn't what I had intended.  
> I kind of also wanted to wait to see The Kitchen too, but most of this had already been written by then. 
> 
> I hope everyone liked this short story despite the kind of dark, weird and ambling tones to it. 
> 
>    
> **  
>  **Important.**
> 
> It's at your discretion to read up more on it, but it's highly unpleasant and a very horrible part of my country's history. 
> 
> The convent Gabriel mentions is what was referred to as a Mother and Baby Home back in Ireland in the 1950's and 60's, and the last one was closed in the 60's.  
> His upbringing is obviously alluded to being in one before being sent to America, and him being taken from his mother as she was unmarried was unfortunately, extremely common. 
> 
> Flip's own past is also alluded to having lost a great deal, but I'm leaving that to the reader's imagination despite my own headcanons.
> 
> Lastly, I'm aware of the weird mish-mash timeline of Dead Don't Die and BlacKkKlansman, but, uh - 
> 
> Actually I've no excuse. I just liked Ronald Peterson being Flip's grandfather for some reason.


End file.
